What Were You Expecting? (13 page)

Lars answered the door looking tousled and satisfied, wearing only his boxer shorts and holding a mug of coffee. Of course, he had a Park Girl over, per usual. Lars broke into a grin as he opened the door.

“Morgon
,
Største
,” he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. As always, Nils was struck by how carefree and uncomplicated Lars’s life seemed in comparison to his own. Though he tried not to resent this, deep down, he did. Not to mention, Lars had about the most active sex life Nils could imagine, which added salt to the wound.

He scowled. “
Har du Sylt Ligon
?”
Do you have ligonberry jam?

“Maybe. But only if you’re sharing
våfflor
.”

Nils peeked his head past Lars’s shoulder, expecting to see a half-dressed woman prancing about his apartment begging for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to be teased with his brother’s bounty over breakfast.

“För två, inte tre
.”
For two, not three.

Lars flashed his white teeth at Nils, chuckling quietly. “She’s long gone. She was meeting her girlfriends at seven for a hike.”

Nils took the proferred jar of red jam, glancing at his little brother’s ripped, bare torso. “Then get dressed and come up.”

Ten minutes later the brothers sat across from each other at Nils’s kitchen table in silence, drinking good coffee and filling up on waffles.

Finally Lars shoved his plate to the center of the table and twisted his wrist to look at his watch. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get moving.”

“Late?” Nils gave his brother a look. “For what? We don’t have a job scheduled for today. I checked the—”

“For Maggie.”

“Maggie,” he repeated, her name rattling him more than it should. “What are you talking about?”

“Pop’s party? Ring a bell? Jenny’s gonna have your hide if you back out now. She’s counting on you to come up with a slideshow of photos or something.”

“I’m sorry, but I think I’d remember if our
lillesøster
was coming to town.”

“Jen’s not…” Lars smiled at Nils, nodding his head indulgently. “When’s the last time you checked your email?”

“Oh, just yesterd—”

“Not your Lindstrom and Sons account. Your Yahoo email that your sister uses now and then to email you when she’s scheduled a meeting about your father’s surprise birthday party?”

Oh, hell. Never. “Been a while.”

“So you haven’t gotten any of her emails? None?” Lars grinned as he slapped his leg and stood up, taking the empty plates to the sink. “Boy, are you in trouble.”

Nils threw back the rest of his coffee, grumbling. Jenny, he could handle. She may throw her weight around here and there, but she was still his little sister. But Maggie? He just wasn’t ready to see her yet.

“Why don’t you head over there,
Midten
? Let me know what the girls say. Tell me whatever they need. You know I’m glad to help.”

Lars turned around and faced his older brother, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. For once he didn’t look playful. His face was a mixture of concern and disappointment, and for all that Lars’s carefree ways and life on a silver platter needled at Nils, he loved his younger brother. Disappointing him wasn’t a pleasure.

“I know what’s going on, Nils,” he said quietly, his voice laced with sympathy.

Nils’s heart started hammering, though he took pains not to reveal his surprise. How in the hell had Lars found out that he and Maggie were married? He tried to remain impassive. “That so?”

“You’ve been avoiding the Prairie for weeks. I know how much you like her. I mean, I assume you did, the way you got all red-faced around her and couldn’t spit your words out to save your life. I know how much it must be bothering you.”

Nils sat forward in his seat, brows furrowed in confusion. “How much
what
is bothering me?”

“That Maggie’s dating Beck Westman.” Lars turned back to the sink to run hot water over the plates. “But it’s a small town. You can’t just avoid Maggie and the Prairie forever. I reckon you have to move on.”

“Um.” Nils rubbed his jaw with his hand, trying to—at least partially—conceal the fierce riot of emotions inside. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Lars faced his brother, cocking his head to the side and searching Nils’s face. “Maggie and Beck. They’re…dating. I mean, I think they are. They’re together a lot. And Beck took over your seat at euchre when you stopped coming.”

“Maggie,” growled Nils, “…and Beck.”

“Yeah. I thought you knew. I thought that’s why you were avoiding her. Because it didn’t work out for you two and she started dating B—”

“I didn’t know,” Nils whispered, his right forefinger rubbing the bare fourth finger of his left hand, the same spot where she wore a Claddagh ring, heart in, that he had slid on her finger four weeks ago. On their wedding day. He felt heat flush his face and as he picked up his coffee cup, his fingers curled so roughly around the handle, it snapped off in his hand.

Lars cringed. “Sorry I had to be the one to tell you. Mind now, I’ve never seen them kissing or anything. Just all smiley and familiar when we’re playing cards and I saw them having dinner together a time or two at the Cowboy Lodge when I filled in at the bar, so I just

assumed—”

“It’s fine,” said Nils, his voice tight and cold. As cold as his heart, which had no right to feel betrayed, but he couldn’t help it that he did. She was
his
. Beck would be lucky if he didn’t end up with Nils’s fist shoved down his throat by the end of today.

“But, Nils? No matter what sort of issues you got going on in your love life? This is Pappa’s birthday party. And between you and me? You got to step up and help out, or you’ll regret it later. You’re coming to that meeting with me today.”

“No worries, little brother,” said Nils, standing up to throw the broken mug in the trash and run his bleeding hand under the faucet. “It’s about time I stopped by the Prairie.”

***

Maggie was ninety-nine percent sure that Nils wouldn’t be at the meeting this morning, but the way her belly fluttered and her hands shook told her that that single percent chance was wreaking havoc on her nerves. She’d barely seen Nils since their wedding day—the day he’d played bagpipes for her at the Roosevelt Arch and kissed her like she meant something to him, tricking her into believing for one brief, toe-curling moment that he might actually be marrying her for her heart, not just doing a favor for a friend.

She’s not special to me. Not like that.
Not at all.

How many nights had Maggie cried herself to sleep with those words circling in her head? For years she’d held out a ridiculous hope that Nils Lindstrom would suddenly cultivate the sort of feelings for her that she’d long harbored for him. Well, over the past month she had come to the conclusion that it simply wasn’t going to happen. He was a good man—a good friend—and she would always be grateful for the way he gave her his name and facilitated her citizenship. But a year and eleven months from now, when she could quietly divorce him and sever any remaining connection to him, couldn’t come fast enough.

In the meantime, sympathy and companionship had some from an unlikely source: Beck Westman. When Beck had driven Maggie home after her wedding, he’d ended up staying for hours keeping her company as she drank herself into oblivion, spilling out her heart. He’d sat beside her on the couch as she cried and raged about Nils not loving her back. He’d offered her his handkerchief and his shoulder and helped her into bed after her fifth or sixth glass of wine.

Maggie knew that Gardiner was buzzing about her and the handsome, eligible lawyer; they’d dined a couple of times at the Cowboy Lodge and met for drinks at the Grizzly. He’d stopped by the Prairie with all of the green card forms, staying late to help her fill them out, and took care of putting them in an envelope so Bethany could take them to Nils. He was, increasingly, a fixture at the Prairie, and had filled in for Nils at euchre for a month now.

She’d apologized and thanked him for his kindness to her, and his eyes had searched hers as he tucked her in. Finally he pushed her hair away from her forehead gently and smiled. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

What Maggie needed was a friend, and she’d been more than clear with Beck that her battered heart needed a break from romantic thoughts and hopes. She needed to get over Nils Lindstrom after so many years of longing and fantasy. She knew it would take a while, if not years, but Beck always touched her arm or swept her bangs off her forehead gently and assured her with a confident smile. “I’m not going anywhere, Maggie Leslie. I’ll be whatever you need.”

Part of Maggie felt a little guilty accepting Beck’s support and kindness, because regardless of his words, she sensed that he wanted far more than friendship from her. But every time she turned around, there he was, with his encouraging smiles and suggestions to grab a beer or a bite. As long as she’d made herself clear, there couldn’t be much harm in accepting his friendship, could there? Besides, it wasn’t just her. He was becoming friends with Paul and Lars, too. He was filling a chair that had been left willfully vacant.

The little bell over the door jingled and Maggie’s neck whipped up to find Paul sauntering over to the bar. She smiled in greeting as her shoulders relaxed and she released a shaky breath.

“Morning, Mags.”

For the hundredth time she thought to herself that she needed to find someone nice for Paul. “Heya. Coffee?”

“Please. Black.” He settled himself on a bar stool and looked around the buzzing café. “No Lindstroms?”

“Not yet. I’m sure Lars will be here soon.”

“Nils, too,” said Paul carefully, watching her.

“I doubt it,” Maggie said cheerfully, placing his coffee on the counter before him. Paul knew that something had happened between her and Nils, and while Maggie hated that she couldn’t share the whole green-card wedding with Paul, she knew it was better to keep him in the dark. Anyway, Nils had insisted on it, too, and she felt compelled to keep the secret.

“It’s his Pop’s birthday. He’ll be here.”

Maggie shrugged lightly but her stomach flipped over uncomfortably. The little bell jingled again and her hands fisted then uncurled as Beck walked through the doorway with a broad smile and a small plant in one hand, housed in a colorful ceramic planter.

“Mornin’, Maggie Leslie,” he said in his usual greeting, winking at her.

“What do you have there?”

“Lavender. I saw it at Arnold’s and thought…” His cheeks colored as he placed it on the bar. He was always doing this—bringing her thoughtful little gifts. On one hand, she loved the attention, but it also worried her that Beck wasn’t listening when she said she couldn’t handle more than his friendship in her life.

She took the little plant and slid it to the middle of the bar, leaning down to breathe in the tiny purple flowers. “It’s lovely, Beck.”

Beck sat down next to Paul. “How’s school?”

“We’re getting there,” said Paul. “About six weeks left, but spring fever has set in with a vengeance.”

Maggie grinned. “Have your hands full, huh?”

“I’ve got kids making out in the bathrooms, behind the field house, in empty classrooms, behind the stacks in the library…you name a place, I’m finding them.”

Beck faced Paul, eyes twinkling. “And what do you do when you, er, find them?”

“I tell them to go to class.”

“Once you pry their lips apart?” asked Beck, winking at Maggie.

She gave him a tight smile, turning around to pour him a cup of coffee. The only lips that passed through Maggie’s mind were Nils’s, with an unrelenting regularity. The way he’d cupped her face, the pads of his thumbs had stroked her cheek as his lips had descended to touch hers, warm and certain and—

The bell over the door jingled again and Maggie didn’t need to turn around to know she’d find him standing there. She could feel it, just as she always had. She sucked in a breath, wishing she could still her trembling hands. Clenching her jaw, she turned, unable to stop her traitorous heart from leaping with pure joy to see his face again.

***

Nils couldn’t have looked away from her if tried. If someone had thrown sand in his eyes, he still would have kept them open, burning like fire, to drink in the sight of her. Her bright eyes glistened fiercely, and as her little chin lifted just slightly, he felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. Good God, he had missed her. How had he managed to stay away for so long? How would he manage it again after today? When all he wanted in the whole world was to vault over the bar and take her into his arms where she belonged, and never, ever let her go.

Lars stepped around him, jostling his shoulder and snapping him back to reality. Maggie cleared her throat and turned her back to him, working at the counter. He finally dragged his eyes away from her and they settled, disagreeably, on Beck Westman, who sat perched on a bar stool like he owned the place.